


Loosening Up

by Arkada



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex, Creative uses of magic, Established Relationship, FrostIron - Freeform, M/M, Massage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-09
Updated: 2013-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-24 06:29:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/631446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkada/pseuds/Arkada
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's had a really bad day. Loki appears to make everything better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loosening Up

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own The Avengers, which is good because slavery is more illegal than copyright infringement.

Finally, _finally_ , the workshop doors closed behind him and Tony could let himself go. 

He slumped out of the ramrod I-don’t-give-a-damn walk and took all the weight off his sore ankle, and at least half of the aches in his body disappeared. It felt fantastic and the lack of relief until now was just another thing he could blame Steve for. 

Goddamn Steve! 

But Tony was a big boy and did not throw temper tantrums. At least not when he had to look at the mess once he’d calmed down, and the workshop was filled with things that would have smashed gloriously but he’d have had to clean them all up after, and it wasn’t worth it. 

But he had to do something! 

Then long hands whispered down his arms and cool lips pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. “Bad day?” 

This? This was something, all right. “Like you wouldn’t believe.” 

“Really, Stark,” Loki said, voice amused. “I believe things which you could not even dream.” 

It was typical Loki: superior asshole on the surface, but if Tony took the buried hint and spilled out what was bothering him, Loki would listen. 

“Goddamn Steve,” he sighed out, and it was rapidly becoming his new favorite phrase. “Kept us in debrief for _hours_ and nothing even went wrong.” 

Loki pushed him gently forwards and they started walking across the workshop together. “Go on.” 

“Just sat there getting stiff while he lectured about nothing. But Fury wanted team-cohesion-something, and Steve delivered.” They stopped at the futon sofa against the wall, and Loki began pulling it apart. Tony replaced Loki’s support with the wall. “Still can’t believe how much he sucks up to Fury. Just because the guy’s technically his commanding officer, Steve thinks he’s always right or something. Fury says jump and Steve says _ribbit_. Doesn’t matter if I say, no Steve, you’re not a frog.” 

There was the warm dissolving feeling of Loki magicking their clothes away and by the time he’d stripped the futon off the sofa frame they were both completely naked. Tony wished he’d thought of that before because just losing the cold sweaty clothes was a major improvement. 

Loki laid the futon out on the floor. “On your belly.” Tony just dropped, face first, and felt his bones melt completely. 

Loki straddled his ass, the head of his dick leaving a bright shuddering point in the small of Tony’s back, and set his hands on Tony’s shoulders. Tony groaned. That was so good; he wouldn’t have been surprised to find that Loki was magicking the tension right out of him along with the massage. His fingers worked deep, brief pain before they made it better, untangling the combination of exertion and cold. 

“If you wish an inglorious end for the captain, such can be easily arranged.” 

Mmm, death threats. They gave him a warm fuzzy feeling, repeated in his loosening muscles. The best part was how Loki would actually do it if he asked. 

Probably, the best part should have been how Loki _wouldn’t_ do it if Tony _didn’t_ ask, but still. “It’s so nice to have evil on my side.” 

Loki slapped him lightly on the back of the head. “Oh, but I’m not evil. I am _temporarily lost and misguided, but not beyond hope_.” He was practically chewing on the words, a flare of anger and exasperation. “So says Thor. And precious, _golden_ Thor-” Loki’s hands seized for a second, hard, “cannot be wrong. Can he?” 

“Ah,” Tony said. “Does someone else want a back rub?” 

He felt Loki shrug. “I had rather bend you over a table and take you until you fall senseless.” 

“Ah. Yeah, that sounds good too.” 

Loki’s hands moved, knuckles starting to knead down his spine, and Tony writhed – he was still knotted up, little tense painful lumps everywhere Loki touched. “When you are eased enough to permit it. Tell me more about your captain.” 

“It’s so infuriating,” Tony moaned. He was actually moaning. He sounded like a teenage girl at a sleepover, but he was sore and tired and Loki didn’t judge. “He still treats us all like soldiers and we’re not. Especially me. I’m a civilian consultant, I shouldn’t even be out there at all!” 

“Then why are you?” 

Tony shifted experimentally, and at least half of his spine had been loosened up, tingly with returning blood. Loki’s hands moved even lower, and his dick twitched against the futon. “Because I’m better than all of them and they know it. Or they should.” 

“Ah,” Loki said. “Does someone else want to bend someone over a table?” 

Tony chuckled. Loki was so cute. “Day I’ve had? Rather just be bent.” 

Loki laid his hands flat on Tony’s back, and there was a warm _whoosh_ through his muscles that wiped away everything at once, the stress of the battle and the hours of sitting still afterwards and the tension from anger at Steve. So _that_ was what magic muscle relaxant felt like. Loki was obviously just a great masseur. 

“Then come.” Loki’s weight disappeared, and hands hauled Tony upright. They spun him around and then Loki’s lips met his, soft and gentle, counter to his tongue thrusting through and tangling with Tony’s. Tony went with it, not entirely sure that Loki hadn’t _presto relaxo’d_ his brain as well, but judging by the progressive tightening in his groin, brainpower was not necessary. 

Loki’s hand slid down his chest and wrapped around his dick, and Tony arched into the pressure and friction, exactly what he needed. Loki broke the kiss to grin instead, and shifted his hand to stroke, slow and hard. Tony’s world shrunk down around that one point, vague tremors going through his body as Loki worked him with fingers too clever for their own good, long and nimble. 

He glanced down between them and like always, it took his breath away. Loki’s hand was pale against the tan of Tony’s skin and the flushed red of his dick, catching the tiny drops of precome from the head as it slid up and down. Loki’s other hand was working his own dick, or length or manhood or whatever gods called it, twisting gently over the impressive size of it, the whole thing shining with magically-applied lube. 

Loki squeezed him and Tony gasped, shaking, and grabbed at Loki’s shoulders to keep himself on his feet. Loki chuckled, and moved them off the futon, lab floor flat and cold against his feet after the cushioning. 

He shuddered with loss as Loki removed his hand, feeling loose and lonely. Loki turned him around and pushed on his shoulders, and Tony bent down limply until he met the table, the glass cold and smooth, and he settled himself against it, the tops of his hipbones just resting on the surface, ass tilted up and on display. Loki’s lips touched his shoulder, and again a little lower, and again, like he was mapping constellations. Loki’s hands splayed out over Tony’s arms, running up and down, fitting into every dip and curve, one hand still slick with the conjured lube. 

That hand lifted and reappeared at his ass, pushing gently between his cheeks. Tony gasped, already, everything Loki did was just too good not to. Loki’s first finger slipped into his hole, intense and solid, and Loki circled it just lightly and Tony practically dropped open, loose like he’d been prepped for hours. 

Loki really could relax _all_ his muscles. 

Two hands on his ass, spreading him wide, and Tony shamelessly spread his legs for Loki to stand between. Loki’s dick eased between his cheeks, hot and pulsing, electrifying Tony’s skin wherever it touched, a long line of contact left behind it. It touched his slack rim and then Loki just stopped. 

Stopped and stood there with his dick only in Tony’s ass in the most technical sense of the word. Tony could almost have screamed. 

“What, you want an engraved invitation? Hurry up!” 

He _knew_ Loki was smirking at making him beg for it, but then he pushed forwards and it was all worth it. 

The head just popped in and then it was a long, smooth slide until Loki’s hips were flush against his ass, in as far as he could go and it was amazing. 

Loki’s dick curved slightly inside him, pressure feeling like it had to be shoving his organs out of the way, like he should have been able to touch his stomach and trace its outline. 

Loki moved, slow drag out and sudden thrust back in, and Tony almost lost it right there. “ _Harder!_ ” Yes, harder, harder was good. Tony wiggled back from the edge of the table, just a bit, so his dick wasn’t pressing right against it. He was not having Loki pound into him and accidentally crush anything important. 

Loki’s hips snapped back and in, like a whip, and punched a cry right out of Tony. His skin was buzzing, everything closing in on Loki’s dick in his ass. He clenched and felt the shape of it, the solidity, the sheer _fact_ of it, right there. 

Loki’s movements went shallow, little vibrating twitches, and Tony shuddered with each one. Loki’s hands wrapped around his, warm with exertion, and Tony grinned into the table because it wasn’t everyone who could make a god work up a sweat. 

He pushed himself up and back to meet Loki, tipping his head sideways so he didn’t smack him in the nose. And _oh, god_ , Loki’s chest settled against his back, smooth skin rippling over muscle, and he leant back against it, into it, and he felt incredible. Loki’s dick shifted inside him with the new angle, pushing forward like it was trying to rip him apart, hot pressure at the tip. 

Loki’s arm wrapped up and over his chest, ribs to opposite shoulder, holding him closer. His head bent, black hair falling into Tony’s peripheral vision, and his lips slid over Tony’s neck. Tony’s head dropped back under the force of it; there was no way he could hold himself up with Loki’s lips and tongue doing _that_ , tracing his tendons up and down and up again, long deep lines of pure sensation sinking into him. His whole body was shaking with it and he would probably have fallen without Loki keeping him up. 

Actually, falling wasn’t a bad idea, so he locked an arm around Loki’s back, and the other to his neck, and dragged them both down to the table. Loki was just tall enough for this; even curving over Tony, their heads were still side-by-side. Loki’s thrusts picked up speed and strength, went even deeper, and Tony spread out his arms to keep his balance, sweat sticking him to the glass. His ass was stretched and open and _full_ , Loki’s dick reaching up and up and up. 

Loki straightened and the chest down his back disappeared, and then Loki’s fingers skated across his skin, curving and flowing and pressing harder in time with his thrusts into Tony’s ass, dragging out a steady rhythm, _now, now, now_. 

It was building up inside Tony’s head, in his chest, this pressure like liquid being compressed and there was only so much more it could take before it exploded outwards. His dick felt tight, skin too small, and he writhed, trying to find something to rub off against. But there was nothing there, only air, and Loki laughed softly in his ear. 

“Come without it, Stark,” he said. “I know you can. I know how much you think of this, think of _me_ ; you crave my very touch, wish every minute that I would grace you with my attention.”

Tony thought of denying it, he wasn’t quite that far gone yet, but Loki’s voice did _things_ to him and it wasn’t worth it. It curled in his ears and ran through his blood, pooling in his groin, like Loki was inside him in more ways than one. 

“You think of _me_ when you pleasure yourself. You cram your fingers inside your body and wish they were mine instead. What filthy imaginings can a genius conjure? Tell me, Stark, tell me.” 

“Your mouth,” Tony whimpered, confession making him even hotter. “When you suck me off. They don’t call you Silvertongue for nothing _…_ ” 

“Hmm,” Loki said, and _slammed_ back in, hips slapping against Tony’s ass, dick working deeper like it wanted to crawl up his throat, and Tony’s whole system jammed. Then Loki kissed the back of his neck and the touch just shocked him into coming, ears ringing, and Loki’s weight around him was the only thing keeping him from flying. 

He screamed Loki’s name, held that _I_ like it was a lifeline, felt Loki’s hips keep moving, the slick drag in and out never stopping, almost like he was still just massaging him, working him warm and loose. 

He came down, aware of the table under him and his sore throat and the way he was standing on his toes, and Loki was still going like he hadn’t even noticed. 

Tony had to do something fast, otherwise Loki was capable of doing this for hours, in and out, just using him, and Tony wanted to sleep but he’d be damned if he passed out _during_ sex. Somewhere he mustered up the willpower to clench down and thrust back to meet Loki, and by the delighted laugh he got that was a winning strategy. 

They found a rhythm, thrust – thrust – thrust, and it felt good even if there was no chance of Tony getting hard again, the back-and-forth and the stretch delicious in themselves, indulgent and easy, Loki’s dick practically stroking him. 

“Loki…” 

And _that_ had him coming, pumping wet heat into Tony, and Tony ground back relentlessly, just asking for more. Loki dropped, draping himself over Tony, breaths heavy and deep. Tony was gasping too, and he started to feel the cost, the ache where he was bent, the tightness in his arches, the hard line where the edge of the table dug into him. 

Tony shoved them both upright, arms noodley but functioning, and Loki leant his head on Tony’s shoulder and mumbled incoherently as Tony navigated them across the workshop. His feet were dragging and Loki stepped on him a couple of times, but they collapsed back on the futon without even minor injury. 

Loki was half on top of him and Tony’s legs were tangled with his, and they were both sweaty and overheated but he didn’t much care. 

Besides, if they took a shower now they’d end up at it again, and Tony knew he couldn’t take that right now. 

“I trust,” Loki said, still a touch breathless, “this has improved your day?” 

“You made my feet sore,” he complained, just to be petty, “but apart from that it’s stellar.” 

Loki scoffed, but he pulled at one of Tony’s legs until Tony got coordinated and bent properly, and then Loki’s thumbs dug into Tony’s arch and started working out the ache. Tony purred, and settled into the futon, Loki’s comfortable weight pinning him down and clever hands making everything feel better. 

~ 

The next day, when the eggs Steve was frying spontaneously exploded and covered him in yolk, in full view of the entire team, Tony concealed his glee and sent out a silent prayer of thanks. 

He also made sure to replace Thor’s conditioner with purple hair dye.


End file.
